A Different Sorting
by Laura Schiller
Summary: If the "Matched" characters belonged to the Hogwarts universe, how would they be sorted? A collection of drabbles.
1. Xander

A Different Sorting

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Matched/Harry Potter

Copyright: Ally Condie/JK Rowling

"Carrow, Xander!"

_No relation to _the_ Carrow twins, I trust? _a clipped, disapproving voice said in Xander's ear.

He jumped, but recovered quickly; after shopping for magic wands, changing money at a goblin bank and walking through a train station barrier, a talking hat began to sound almost normal.

_Never heard of them,_ he thought. _My dad's a doctor. I didn't know anything about this place until we got our letters …_

He peered from below the floppy hat brim at his friend Cassia, whose auburn hair shone in the light of the hundreds of floating candles. She was watching him anxiously, her fingers clasped together. How lucky he had been to find her, the one girl in the neighborhood who would make paper birds sing and heal with a touch just as he could.

But what if they weren't even in the same house?

_I'll go wherever she goes,_ he pleaded. _Anywhere. Even to that house they say is where all the evil wizards came from. Although they can't all be evil, can they? _Some of the Slytherins, in secondhand robes and faces too old for their years, looked downright miserable. How many of them had parents in prison? He almost wanted to get over there and talk to them … especially if it turned out Cassia would be sharing that house.

_I haven't tested her yet, boy,_ said the Hat, in a tone that sounded as if it might be rolling its eyes. _But you've given me an idea. Loyal, selfless, compassionate … I know just where to put you. _

"HUFFLEPUFF!"


	2. Ky

"Markham, Ky!"

_Oooh, _said the Hat, _You're a tricky one, aren't you?_

_Just get it over with._ Ky hated the thought of anyone reading his mind, which was a dark place with memories far too painful to share.

_You could be great, you know. Slytherin might help you …_

_Over my dead body._

Ky glared at the dark inside of the hat. He had seen them from the line, brutish and ugly, sulking in their seats like hags deprived of human flesh. Some of these people – if only he knew their names – must be related by blood to the murderers of his own mother and father. Coming home after a late broom flight with the Dark Mark glittering over house was a moment that would haunt his nightmares all his life.

_How about Ravenclaw? _suggested the Hat. _You're certainly intelligent enough. But then, pure theory never was your strong point, was it? _

_Put me in Hufflepuff, _he said. _Somewhere I won't draw attention. Somewhere safe._

The Hat let out an unmistakable sniff.

_You underestimate Lady Helga's house, Mr. Markham. And as for being safe … whatever happened to the boy who wanted to fly so high he could touch the clouds?_

_Get away from my memories, you dirty flea-bitten rag!_

His memories of flying – his father's proud laugh, his mother's drawings of him soaring across the walls, the pure exhilaration of the wind whipping through his robes – were like daggers to his throat. He had been so reckless, taking risks, never knowing how precious life could be until he saw death.

Still … part of him would give anything to be that boy gain.

_What you need, _said the Hat, _is to find your courage – not the absence of fear, but the will to act despite it. Better be … _

"GRYFFINDOR!"


	3. Cassia

"Reyes, Cassia!"

She put the Hat on with trembling hands. She had rarely felt so conflicted in the whole of her peaceful life. Her mother, a herbologist and former Hufflepuff, still smiled whenever she spoke of the friends she had made there. It was also Xander's new house. She had always trusted their friendship before, but was it strong enough to survive such a separation?

On the other hand, Gryffindor was her paternal grandfather's house. Samuel Reyes, Order of Merlin First Class, was her hero; he was the one who had taught her to jump from a diving board, ride a broomstick, and question every authority, including his own.

This was a choice that would determine her whole life. What should it be?

_The answer is simple, _came the Hat's voice. _None of these people are wearing me right now, are they? You are. I think you know what you want, only you're afraid to admit it._

She did know … but would her grandfather be disappointed?

_If he is, _retorted the Hat, _He clearly doesn't practice what he preaches._

_None of these words are your own, Cassia, _she remembered him telling her.

_There's nothing you love more than a complicated puzzle or revolutionary idea, _the hat told her, almost kindly. _I can see it. There are other kinds of courage, you know,besides swooping in with wands blazing. Sometimes, all you need is a well-brewed potion or a few well chosen words to change the world._

Cassia smiled and sent the Hat her gratitude.

"RAVENCLAW!"


End file.
